Darkness That Lies Within
Taratron and Onyxfang, 2008
I love the way you look at me
I feel the pain you place inside
you lock me up inside your dirty cage
while I'm alone inside my mind
I like to teach you all the rules
I get to see them set in stone
I like it when you chain me to the bed
but then your secrets never show
I need to feel you
you need to feel me
I can't control you
you're not the one for me no
I can't control you
you can't control me
I need to feel you
so why's there even...
I love the way you rake my skin
I feel the hate you place inside
I need to get your voice out of my head
'cause I'm that guy you'll never find
I think you know all of the rules
there's no expressions on your face
I hope that someday you will let me go
Release me from my dirty cage
~Puddle of Mudd, Control, 2001
......When she woke, several hours later, it was to total darkness, and she was lying on her back, manacled at the wrist and ankle...and somehow unable to speak. She blinked her optics in confusion.
Not that it helped. Was she still blind or was it really this dark?
Total darkness, as if her optics were still shattered, though they felt whole, and the pressure around her neck abated suddenly, leaving her able to gasp, but it still felt as though a tight noose were around her vocalizer...and his voice, so soft. "Hello, slave..."
She grimaced, trying to sit up. She couldn't be blind…she was defenseless if she was blind! Unable to vocalize a response, her clawed hands dug in against the surface she was laying on
"You can speak." And indeed she could, but each word felt as though it were being forced from her throat. "Now speak before I remove your vocalizer for good."
"Why can't I see?" she forced out
"Because I haven't let you yet....and if you do not address me properly, slave, I will remove your optics permanently. Try again."
A little flicker of suicidal spirit flared in her and she almost called him something very undesirable, but instead replied, forcing it out, "Yes…Master."
"Good girl." And the blinders on her optics were removed; she could see! .....she was in a back room of his lab, manacled to a dissection table, the mantis standing off to the side, looking pleased. "I will tell you this, slave....from here on out, you will never speak unless I let you, and never see unless I allow it....if you anger me again, I will make you a drone."
She nodded slowly, "I understand."
He looked at her for a moment....and then the world turned black again, her throat too tight to even gasp out of; she could barely breathe! .....for nearly a minute she was held suspended, and then finally her throat opened, her vision still locked.
"....try again, slave...."
"I understand, Master,' she said quietly, a note of panic making of voice tremble.
"That is your last warning," he said softly, so much closer to her now, and one claw rested over her chest, as if he were feeling her over.... "Do you know what your purpose is, slave, other than to obey me?"
She flinched and swallowed hard, "No, Master."
Yet his claw was gentle over her chest, feeling around her....surely he did not mean that? To spark-meld with her? "I know why Megatron gave me you, slave....there is little satisfaction in Darkside, and only the widow here....so you are to satisfy me fully, as my slave...."
Laserbeak recoiled instinctively in horror, her green optics wide. She felt a blaze of revulsion and hatred course through her spark but held her tongue.
She could still not see him, nor fully pull away, so tight were her restraints, and his claw did not leave her, exploring over her breastplate still. To force such a close act, something that could result in children (though not all the time, of course)....would he dare?
Momentary doubt was followed by certainty and she hated him all the more for it. She felt more furious than she ever had in her entire life. Maybe she truly was becoming a Predacon because all she felt were dark emotions and thoughts of if she did ever get out of this there would definitely being some vengeance seeking
Yet her voice was free.....screaming at him would never spare her, but perhaps she could persuade him otherwise?
She swallowed hard, "That would be beneath your integrity to do such a thing, Master…"
"Why is that, slave?" His voice was darker, and closer, nearly at her audio! ....and though she was chained down still, she could barely feel him, so close to her side. "It has been a very long time since I've had a female, and you I can have as often as I want...mmm....even share you with the other flyers if I so choose."
She felt sick as her spark churned, "Because you're better than that..' she whispered, looking up at him pleadingly. Still unable to see, following his voice. She could easily picture the cold look of fury she'd last seen on his features and she shuddered.
There was a soft click as her manacles shifted, forcing her to her side, pressed against his warm form, her hands cuffed between them. "No, slave, I'm not....I'm truly not....perhaps once I was, but now....ah, now I am a Predacon through and through..."
Was there something there? In his voice? Certainly not in his hellish red gaze, but before when he'd seemed interested in her past life, in what she could remember, she had felt that there was something, just the fainted flicker of something good in him. Maybe he felt just the least bit of regret for hurting her. For scaring her so badly.
"Can I at least see you?"
She paused then added demurely, resignedly, "Master?"
He was silent for a moment, and suddenly the blinders were gone; he was so close to her she might have screamed anyway, their bodies inches apart, his face close to hers, those terrible and hate-filled optics on hers, piercing.
She bit back a whimper of fear and forced herself to stare into them, looking for that flicker, that faintest little bit of good she'd sensed in him before buried deep under all his hatred.
He had seemed to be different before, before her attack...interested in her words, not dominant, but that flicker, that spark, was gone from his face fully, and he grinned, three rows of sharp white teeth before her. How could she....could she even escape this fate?
She shivered, then murmured, "Something terrible must have happened to you to make this way...something I couldn't even begin to imagine."
"Speak again like so, slave, and I will tear out your vocalizer for you." One of his wings folded over her, drawing her closer...
She swallowed hard, "Please don't..Master. I didn't mean to offend you…"
"Mmm....what is your name, slave?" Oh, a loaded question....!
She hesitated, trying to think over how he'd want her to respond, "I have no name unless you allow me to have one and I answer only to Slave, master…"
His smile was still dark, though....he seemed very pleased. "Good, slave, very pleasing...." One claw trailed down her side, feeling over her...and her own hands, of course, were pinioned between them. No chance for escape, or even to try and push away....
She bit down on her bottom lip, her hands turned out, unable to push away but pressed against his abdomen, trying to keep from getting closer. He opened her chest plate to expose her spark and she felt more vulnerable than ever. If only she hadn't attacked him! If only she could take it back, she would, she would…
"What is your purpose, slave?"
"To do as you command, Master.."
"And if I pass you to the flyers with the order to meld with them, and do as they say....?"
She paused, "Do you wish me to be honest, Master?"
"If it would please me."
"Then its best I hold my tongue."
"Very good, slave....you will speak only to please me....but for now, let me hear your honest words."
Her paused, her gaze darkening, "I would claw their optics out."
"Mmm. Why?"
"The way they looked at me..It made me sick..." she whispered, feeling her beast mode stomach tucked away inside her seem to roll at the prospect. If she could keep him talking, change the subject, perhaps..
"The way I look at you is different, slave?" Well, there had been mercy in his optics before...
She paused, "Yes..It was. You spoke to me."
"And?"
She paused, trying to put this into words, words that would earn his sympathy if he had any to give, "There was something about you…that was different from them. Better. I wasn't afraid to follow you. Until I made you angry by being a Maximal. Then you frightened me, but I shouldn't have fought back. I apologize, Master..."
"As you should, slave....but if I ever give you to them for their pleasure, you will obey me and please them fully." He could not mean that....!
She bit back a response but it broke free anyway.
"I'd rather die," she replied coldly, her optics bright gleaming with anger.
"Would you now?" Something blazed in his optics, just as it had when he had lashed out at her...that raw and pure anger....!
She almost flinched but locked optics with him defiantly, "Yes."
"Then I know to keep you blind and mute when I give to you them." .....and that was mercy?
"You may as well put me in stasis too. Even blind and mute I'd fight," she replied coldly
"Oh, I imagine that will turn them on more, slave....perhaps I should take you there when I am done." That burning in his optics....he was furious at her for her rejection to obey...
She jerked at her chains as hard as she could, hoping for a little give.
One claw pressed to her back, inching her closer to him. "Last words, slave?"
Suddenly a last desperate ploy popped in her head and threw herself against him, her optics dimmed her head bowed demurely, "Don't send me away to them, master. I belong to you, only to you…" Well defiance hadn't worked.
The claw at her back pulled her from him; she would find no comfort on him. "If it is my will, spark, will you obey?"
She bit her lip. Yes or no. Say yes and lie or say no and suffer? Either way he'd do what he willed and she would fight to her last breath. "No."
Those optics, burning into hers with a new hatred now, and the claw at her back trembled, the disc within slowly revving up, as if he meant to slice her from behind!
She bit her lip, swallowing hard, her green optics bright with fear. She didn't want to die! She didn't want to be reduced to scrap or reprogrammed, where was the honor in that? What good did her defiance, her pride, do her if she was permanently offline? Already she imagined she could feel his blades slicing her apart..
"..Yes.." she whispered in a voice so small even the finest tuned audio sensors could hardly pick it up.
"Yes what?" So close, those terrible and hate-filled optics so close to her...
"Yes…I'll do whatever you order me to, Master…" she whispered softly, her green eyes dimming as some of the fire died in them.
He growled softly, pleased. "Good....now move closer to me, slave...close the gap." His smile was terrifying; he was enjoying her fear. And to make her make the final move for this intimacy...! His voice dropped, a dark hiss. "Come, slave....act as you must....show no fear....you want this...take me, slave, and please me...."
She fought down the urge to jerk away and moved closer to him obediently, not meeting his optics.
Yet he did not move; she would have to press fully to him, for their sparks to interact, his optics narrowed at her...
She almost winced as her body pressed against his entirely, her optics dim, and her head down. Her hands tensed, wanting to tighten into fists. She had not seen him expose his own spark. Perhaps he would not go through with it after all. Nothing but thoughts of escaping this shame, this horror, filled her mind.
Yet he barely kept a claw on her side, trusting her want to live stronger than her fear and revulsion, and for a moment it seemed nothing was happening...and then a spear against her spark, a jagged hint of his presence, against her spark, and she was powerless to stop, unless she broke away.
She tensed but her survival instinct told her to flinch and draw back would be her last mistake.
Well, drawing back or attempted escape would be! And her master hissed darkly; she might be too afraid to feel any pleasure, at this forced act, but if nothing else, she was pleasing him. His optics were dim, and one arm held her tighter against him, his spark pulsating with hers; perhaps if she closed her optics and merely felt, it would be bearable?
She wondered if she could just block it out, shut it out of her mind. Her optics flickered off and she lay still, trying to ignore the sensations as they grew stronger.
But so hard to ignore, such strong sensations, such deep pleasure building, the feel of another's spark meshing so well with hers, and her master growled softly, biting onto her shoulder, holding on further....one could not say she disobeyed!
She whimpered. Her hands tensed and her claws dug into her palms. It was like he was smoke, swirling through her mind and soul, invading everything that had ever been private. And yet there was sweetness to the sensation, her body betraying her.
"How does it feel, slave?" he hissed. "Answer me honestly....not merely what I want to hear..."
"Different.." she whispered, stunned, a little dazed, "I've never.." she shuddered as her spark pulsed sharply, on the verge of a pleasurable overload.
"No pain?"
"No...no pain.."
"Pity," he breathed softly. ".....I can remedy that...." And he flipped them suddenly, pinning her on her back, forcing her against the hard table, and on her, claws digging in to her side as gravity helped, pressing and pushing his spark almost painfully deeper with and into hers, his growling louder, and as he moved them, his claws struck and broke her bonds, leaving her hands free!
She winced then gasped, pressing her face against the side of his neck, in pain but it seemed to only deepen the intensity of the experience
Laserbeak flexed her wrists, dimly surprised at their freedom, but if any idea of grabbing for a weapon or shoving him away clicked in her mind she recognized them as suicide. She hesitated to move at all then slowly slid her hands up and traced her fingers exploringly over the fine membranes of his purple wings.
His wings lashed away (he did not trust anyone with such fine things) from her; he seemed not quite lost in the pleasure, growling softly, and biting down, leaving dents and small punctures on her shoulders...and in the next moment it was over, and he had rolled to his side, optics dim....she had survived. So far.
She blinked dimly, shuddering, her beast mode's instinct powerfully compelling her to revert to the more primitive form and wrap her wings around her in a fetalish position as a newborn pterosaur would within an eggshell but she was afraid to move. With the pleasurable sensation fading a wave of revulsion for what had happened and even towards herself flooded her and her optics flickered off.
She had no way of knowing, of course, but had she come upon him a year ago, none of this would have happened...of course, a year ago he had still had hope; even a few months ago he would not have touched her, but his creator's rejection, even with the truth presented, had left him with little other choice...if he was to be a true Predacon, he would take the part fully, and no longer act it with hope of rescue. And he reached out with a claw, suddenly and forcefully knocking her off the table, clattering to the floor, and he sat up, looking down on her with such cold optics.
She flinched, swallowing hard, then felt a shock of black hatred in her spark. Was this what it felt like to be a Predacon, to have the only flicker of trust she could remember betrayed, to feel this overwhelming need to lash out at those that had hurt her? She shook her head sharply, sickened with herself. She would not be like this. This was not her. ~If Trailblazer were here...~ She paused, blinking in confusion, unsure of where that thought had come from. The name was both achingly familiar and alien to her. But she could remember nothing else about it
"You've proven untrustworthy, slave....get up." And he slid from the table, so much larger than her, and stepped out of the small side room; they were back in his main lab, and he led her past there, down another shaft, to a small side room, a storage room, it appeared, and on the floor, off to the side, was a very large barred cage, large enough for a bot her size to stand in, but small enough that walking a few feet either way was the extent of activity....he meant for her to go in there?
She flinched, her optics darting away to the objects in the store room, half hoping if she pretended not to notice the cage he would change his mind. Her eyes lighted one a few old artifacts, HUMAN artifacts, the property of the previous owner of the ship before it was stolen no doubt and now left here to rot as they held little interest to Predacons. These objects were small, dusty, thick rectangles of paper and binding and for a moment she ached to touch them, but she remembered her order to touch nothing.
"In," he said shortly, and with a few whisks of his wings, waved aside several of the bound paper books, that her cage was within reach of nothing. "If you disobey, slave, I'll leave you chained to the table instead."
She blinked then nodded sitting in the cage and looking at the books with frustrated longing, "I understand, Master."
"Good." And he closed the door, setting the computerized lock, and left....returning a few moments later with a small box that barely fit in the bars of her cage. "I'm going to be busy...if you distract me, you'll be blind and mute again." And he turned, abruptly leaving her alone.
She blinked then sat alone for a long time, staring at the cage floor. After a moment she slowly, carefully with the tip of one claw, scratched the name into the bottom of the cage. Trailblazer. She frowned, staring at it intently then her optics flicked off. In the back of her memory circuits something sparked to life. The faintest whisper of a deep, amused voice murmuring another name. "Starfire…" Her optics blazed back on and she scratched this name below the first, staring at the two names for a long time in silent contemplation.
When she dared to open the box, she found it unlocked and non-trapped; it held a few disks, small logs of the war thus far, profiles of the factions, and several small rations of energon; true to his word, the mantis kept busy throughout the day, out of her sight, not her mind, working away as he had for the past month; he no longer solely modified his own weapons, but those of the entire crew, as well as making toxins for the offense as well....